


Of Sunken Hearts & Bleeding Minds

by shootingstarcipher



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Dark, M/M, Romance, apocalypse!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-15 12:55:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8057230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shootingstarcipher/pseuds/shootingstarcipher
Summary: After a failed attempt at bringing about the end of the world, Bill turns to Plan B.With a destructive virus having now been set loose and a destructive horde of driven-mad humans rampaging the town it all started in, all Bill has to do is sit back and watch the world crumble.And Dipper isn’t going to get in the way this time.





	1. Asleep

You would think that it’d be a difficult thing, sleeping right through the beginning of the apocalypse, and yet in practise Dipper found it was a thing which happened unexpectedly easily.

He never meant for it to happen, of course - in fact he had no way of knowing that the apocalypse was about to occur for a second time - but someone else did. Someone - who had every intention of keeping him out of the way so as not to ruin his chances of getting his way yet again - had the power to keep him trapped in a world he, at the time, didn’t mind being trapped in. A prison which (upon closer inspection) his best judgement told him was a dangerous ploy set up to ensnare him, but which initially had him deceived.

It was just a dream. But it was a world he could control down to the creation and movement and destruction of every single molecule. No cell was exempt from his jurisdiction, no creature able to escape his domination. Everything was his to manipulate as he pleased and there were no exceptions. Time had slowed to a stop and he seemed to go on living forever. This must be what it’s like to be like Bill, he told himself. And it was. It was exactly what it was like to be like him.

He was only half-disappointed when he woke up. He was disappointed that it had all been a trick, yes, but he was relieved to find himself in the real world again - until he discovered what the real world had become.

The Mystery Shack seemed to have disappeared. He wasn’t in it; that was certain. He wasn’t in the same bed he’d fallen asleep in, nor was anything else about the room the same except that he was surrounded by the same people he’d expected to be surrounded by. They were the people he cared about the most: his twin sister (Mabel), their two great uncles, the Mystery Shack’s resident handyman, and Wendy, their friend and also one of the Mystery Shack’s employees.

Wherever they were, there seemed to be only one room, the only door he could see being at the top of a tall flight of stairs. There were a few beds, but not enough for each of them to have their own. In one corner of the room was a kitchen area, although there was no table to eat around. In the corner opposite the kitchen was a sofa and a television set. The screen was turned off and there was no sound coming from it. Dipper sat up and scanned the room. Mabel was sat on the bed beside him, looking at him. Wendy was with her. Stan was on the sofa with Soos and Ford was in the kitchen, though he wasn’t really doing anything. They all seemed to be looking at him and had probably been waiting for him to wake up. He suddenly realised he needed to use the bathroom. His eyes darted about, searching. Where the hell was the bathroom?

There was a small cluster of partitions in one corner of the dust-ridden room and, stifling a yawn, he rolled out of bed and staggered over to it. Behind the screens was a closed off bathroom: a toilet, a sink and a shower. Once he’d finished he pushed back one of the screens and stepped out, using this moment to ask all the burning questions he’d built up inside his mind. Where were they? How had they gotten there? Why were they here instead of in the Mystery Shack? How long had he been asleep?

Something must have happened for them to have to leave the Shack and he had to know what. Whatever it was, it had “Bill Cipher” written all over it.

Without a word, Stan grabbed the remote next to him and switched the TV on. The screen showed the town Dipper had grown accustomed to living in, but in a completely different state than he’d last seen it in. Homes had been destroyed, the woods in which he’d spent so much time with his sister having been reduced to a burning expanse of rampant flames, and the people… The people were the worst part of it all. They weren’t normal. Nothing was normal, though normal in Gravity Falls was a totally different normal to the one the rest of the world knew. 

Sunken, bloodshot eyes, pale skin with a deathly glow, scars… Each of them had so many open wounds it was a wonder they hadn’t already bled to death. Instead of walking, they shambled about, stumbling over themselves as well as each other as they desperately tried to… Tried to what? They seemed aimless. A few of them were sitting down, knees pulled up to their chests, in various parts of the town and rocking themselves back and forth. Some of them were people he recognised. There was Candy, one of Mabel’s friends, sitting with her back against a wall with blood all over her clothes. And there was Tad Strange, stumbling about with a large gash across his chest, cutting through his shirt.

Blinking, Dipper turned his head and looked at Mabel. He could trust her. She’d tell him the truth about what had happened, no doubt. He was inclined not to believe what he saw on the television screen. It could have been an elaborate prank, played on him not by his family, but by Bill. He wouldn’t have put it passed him. But Mabel told him it was all true and so he looked at Ford for confirmation. He nodded, silent at first, and then added that it was Bill Cipher’s doing. Dipper sighed heavily and traipsed back to the bed he’d woken up on. Of course Bill was behind it. He always was.

“How long was I asleep for?” he asked wistfully, staring up at the ceiling. It was covered in dust and spiderwebs were strewn across it as a territorial mark.

“A few days,” Ford replied when no-one else did. “You must be hungry. And thirsty,” he added, throwing open the door of the fridge and taking out a can of cola. Mabel ran over to him and carried it - as well as a plate of freshly made sandwiches - to her brother as if he were an invalid. But he was wrong. He didn’t feel hungry at all and he wasn’t particularly thirsty either. He mentioned this to them and Ford told him to eat all the same. He was probably right, Dipper said to himself, and so he did as he was told, half out of the trust he had in his uncle and half out of pure and simple obedience. How could he worry about food when the world was in tatters? Still, he needed to survive. 

He realised as he ate that he still hadn’t been given a proper explanation. He had no idea where they were or what exactly had happened to the town, other than that everyone had been reduced to walking bloody messes - and that Bill Cipher was to blame. As if reading his mind, Ford moved to sit beside him and explained it all to him.

He spoke slowly and carefully, treating him like there was something wrong with him - like he would be unable to understand what he had to say. “You slept right through the start of it. No doubt Bill had something to do with that, too. He wasn’t satisfied with his failed attempt at taking over our world” - Dipper noticed he didn’t say “the world” but “our” - “and has released a disease that is quickly becoming one of the fastest spreading illnesses ever recorded. Anyone who contracts it soon starts to lose their sanity and it isn’t long before they become bloodthirsty killers.” He glance sideways at Stan, who (Dipper now realised), was clutching a sharpened knife in one hand.

“He must have kept me asleep,” Dipper suddenly blurted out, his voice barely above a whisper. He was talking about Bill but Ford momentarily thought he meant Stan, causing a moment of confusion. “But why would he do that? If it was to keep me out of the way, why not just make sure I got the disease? And why didn’t he do anything to anyone else? Why not you?”

“I don’t know,” Ford sighed, “But I suspect it means he has something else planned for you.” Judging by the sound of his uncle’s voice, Dipper guessed he had no intention of letting him out of his sight - not that there was anywhere he especially wanted to go now that he knew what was happening to the rest of the world. “Right now,” Ford continued, interrupting his thoughts. “We’re in a bunker I had installed when I was building my house - under the basement. And that door is staying locked and bolted until all of this is over.”

So forever, Dipper muttered to himself pessimistically. He wondered how they knew Bill was to blame, even though it was fairly obvious. It had been his initial assumption after all. He lay back down with a sigh, his hand slipping underneath the pillow automatically. There was something there. Something hard and… metal. He curled his fingers around it, slid it out from under the pillow and held it up to look at it. It was a necklace: a gold chain with a triangular golden charm at the end of it. He wanted nothing to do with it. It looked too much like the demon to be of any good to him.

At least, that’s what he thought until the next time he fell asleep.


	2. Losing

The necklace was cold against his hand but he kept his fingers coiled around it as he slept, cradling it and hugging it to his chest. For a moment, as streams of light began seeping into the cracks of his vision, illuminating the strange, disturbing world around him, he thought he was waking up. But no… It was just a dream. Or a nightmare. Only nightmares involved what he was seeing now. Only nightmares could make him feel the painful bolts of electricity ricocheting round his body, or the feeling of his arms and legs being pulled apart and pinned to opposite sides of the wall his back was pressed up against.

He gritted his teeth and instinctively tried to withdraw his hands and pull his legs back into their usual position but immediately failed, only succeeding in causing himself more agony. A shrill laugh erupted suddenly seemingly from all around him, echoing off the walls so that it lasted and lasted. The sound was instantly recognisable but Dipper chose to ignore it, discounting it as nothing more than a cruel trick, a ruse to distract him from the real problems he had.

The world was a mess and he was trapped in a nightmare. Then again, maybe Bill Cipher’s presence in his dreamscape was a good sign. If anyone had the power to change his world’s future - and present - it was Bill, although it didn’t seem likely that he - or anyone, for that matter - would be able to convince him to stop what he was doing to it.

He started by inspecting his surroundings as best he could, just in case there was a clue as to what he could do to change the demon’s plans or prevent them hidden in the dreamscape. The floor was covered in a soft dark red carpet and the walls, painted black and gold, were slanted and met each other at the top to make a sharp point. An extravagant, golden chandelier adorned with crystals hung from the pointed ceiling. Grandiose. Just what he’d expected from Bill and nothing less. Each wall was lined with paintings, each one fitted in its own gold frame, and each one depicting the demon himself in some way. The whole place screamed arrogance.

A rusted, light blue metal chain hung from either side of him, curling around his wrists and pinning them to the wall behind him. At the bottom of the wall, just above the floor, two of the same type of chains connected to his ankles, keeping him trapped there. With an infuriated snarl attempting to mask his fear, he rattled the chains angrily in a desperate yet ultimately futile endeavour to free himself.

The laughter stopped and for a moment or so there was only silence. The air was filled with a tense, ominous sense of dread and all he could was hope he’d wake up, failing to recognise the irony of wishing to be in a world rampant with the chilling stench of death as it was taken over by a mind-decaying disease, rather than being there where he might have even been safe.

He blinked and then suddenly wished he hadn’t.

A golden glow invaded his vision and he squinted, momentarily dazed by what he was seeing. It only took a second for him to realise, however. He balled his hands into fists and growled instinctively, only to be cut off by Bill’s laughter. He held a golden cane in his left hand and was leaning against it, his single eye curled into what appeared to be an attempt at a grin.

“You’re not being very patient, Pine Tree,” the demon mused, blinking his eye so that his already long eyelashes were accentuated. Then he floated closer to him and put his free hand on the chain connecting Dipper’s left wrist to the wall and shook it, smirking as it rattled. “Not a fan of all this, are you? Even in the dreamscape, kid, you can’t get out. I manipulate dreams like you inhale oxygen. You can’t beat me.”

Dipper tried to take a step backwards on impulse, his instincts telling him to get as far away from the demon as possible, but instead wound up proving the demon right. He couldn’t get away. He was utterly powerless.

The eye was smirking at him again. “Cute,” Bill cackled, knocking into two of the chains simultaneously this time. “I’d advise you to just get over it. Did you really expect me to go easy on you? Now that I know how much you can cope with, that’ll never happen. If anything, I’m going to make it worse for you that for anyone else.” 

Great, Dipper grumbled inwardly as he narrowed his eyes and glared across at the demon, who was moving away from him now. “I like having you as my little pet,” Bill commented, a glimmer of longing lighting his eye for just a moment. He blinked it away and Dipper continued to stare at him with his hands balled into fists as a bolt of electricity flew up his arm, no doubt the demon’s way of expressing some sort of emotion - what that emotion was or was meant to be, he had no idea.

Flinching as the pain disappeared from his arm and moved up to his neck, he bit down on his lower lip to stop himself was screaming. The pain wasn’t unbearable, but he hoped Bill didn’t realise that and start to increase the voltage of whatever he was zapping him with. “Just hurry up and tell me what you want,” he snapped as soon as the pain had left his body and he’d recovered from the shock. Bill looked startled for a minute but then suddenly seemed to realise what he was referring to and hovered closer to him again, halting his movements once he was merely a few inches away from the brunet.

“I brought you here to offer you a proposal,” he started, casually clasping his hands together behind his back as his cane vanished into thin air. “A game of sorts.” He paused and smirked at him again. “You want your world back, don’t you?” Naturally, the only thing Dipper could think to do was nod in agreement in spite of his reservations, knowing that he was walking right into the demon’s trap. “I can give it back to you. All you have to do is shake my hand and we’ll have a deal.”

He clicked his fingers, causing the chains strapping Dipper to the wall behind him to release him from their clutches. For a minute or so, Dipper forgot about the Bill and his offer and concentrated only on getting the blood flowing in his limbs again and stretching his arms and legs. But then he looked up and saw the demon’s irritatingly knowing smirk and tensed up again, fixing his gaze on the floor below his feet as he considered what the demon had said.

It didn’t make sense. It had to be a trick. It was never straightforward with Bill and making a deal with him was never advisable due to all the hidden disadvantages that would only ever be realised after the deal had been made. He’d found that out the hard way. But this time, Bill hadn’t told him anything - just that he’d get his world back if he made the deal. That meant nothing. In his experience, he’d learnt that Bill never kept his promises. There was no way he had any intention of holding up his end of the deal and Dipper didn’t even know what his own end of the deal was. It was far too big a risk to make. His arm stayed firmly by his side. He didn’t even bother lifting it to shake his hand, which was now outstretched and had a blue flame lingering above it. Instead he simply shook his head.

“Alright, alright,” the demon practically whined - though without so much emotion - and extinguished the flame in the palm of his hand. “I suppose I can’t expect a smart kid like you to go around making deals with demons without knowing all the details first, can I?” He dropped his hand to his side. “Here’s how it’s gonna work. You get to my castle - that’s this place - without dying, and I make everything go back to the way it used to be. On the other hand, if I have to intervene to keep you alive, then…” His eye flashed red for a split second, so fast that Dipper would have missed it if he’d blinked. “You belong to me. Got that, Pine Tree?”

Dipper nodded but gave him a blank stare, too busy running everything he’d just said through his mind to bother trying to feel anything but desperation. Get to the castle. Where was the castle? Here? No, this was the dreamscape. He was already there. With a heavy sigh, Bill muttered something about the building they were in now being a replica of his castle, which was out there somewhere in the real world. Even with that explanation, Dipper was still concerned. Even if he managed to locate the castle, getting to it would be a problem he could not take lightly. Just getting out of the bunker was going to be an issue, let alone fighting his way across a disease-ridden world to a castle filled with even more danger.

He couldn’t do it. But at the same time, a part of him knew that he had to. If not for himself - if not to get his own world back - then he had to do it for everyone else. He’d seen what had happened to those people, the ones who had been unfortunate enough to contract the disease already. He’d seen what happened to one of his sister’s best friends. If he could do something to undo all that, shouldn’t he? Even if he was risking himself in the process. He knew he wasn’t going to die. Bill had said - or at least implied - that he wouldn’t let that happen. But what would happen if he failed?

One look into the demon’s eye, glowing blue with intrigue, and he caved. But not entirely. He was warming to the idea of playing alone but he still had his intelligence. He was still opposed to the idea of making a deal with him, especially after what had happened the last time he’d taken such a chance.

“Fine,” he growled reluctantly, his arms folded across his chest defensively. “But we’re going to play by my rules, not yours.” He looked up at the demon hesitantly, his mask of anger and determination slipping slightly as he gazed up at him through his eyelashes, trying hard to decipher his expression. He seemed… curious. Curious was good. There was no fury or hatred in the demon’s eye. Frustration, maybe, but that was to be expected. “There won’t be any deals,” Dipper went on, lifting his head to look Bill in the eye. “Instead, we’ll have a bet, but everything else is the same - I get to your castle and I win; you have to intervene to keep me alive and I lose.” But you don’t have a hold on me, he added silently, momentarily forgetting that he could read his thoughts.

Bill looked thoughtful for a moment, but then he curled his eyelids up into a devilish grin. "Well, Pine Tree, I underestimated you. Looks like you have a… a bet.”

He failed to mention the fact that Dipper was already losing.


End file.
